Old Friends. New Friends.

In many respects the St. Lawrence River is an old friend as I have visited it on a few trips and am fond of its character. For ten days and 656 miles, I was carried by its current from the narrow headwaters at Kingston, Ontario, through Montreal, Quebec (city), and along the south shore to the small towns of Sainte-Flavie and Mont-Jolie, where I parted with my old friend the river, turning south toward New Brunswick across the top of the Gaspe Peninsula.

New friends dominated this stretch of road though I had to say goodbye to old friends on this stretch, and it was hard to do. Permit me to explain.

Route 138 from Montreal into Quebec (city) follows the Chemin du Roy (Kings Road).  Wonderfully scenic and rolling, it is also subject to weather and chance encounters.  I arrived at the small village of Sainte Anne de-la-Perade from Trois Rivieres, having pushed a headwind out of my way.  I stopped and parked my bicycle against a sign pedestal and sat down, scrolling through Googlemaps to see what was available for lodging, camping or a motel/auberge.  There coincidentally appeared a car that parked next to me. A woman hopped out and asked me, initially in French, if I had a place to stay. Of course, I did not as I was searching for just such a spot.  She explained that she had friends that did extensive bicycle travel and had told her that what cyclists need most is a place to sleep and get cleaned up – essentially a warm shower concept.  I graciously accepted her offer. 

Meet Nancy Fraser, 44 and an activities coordinator for the elderly, who invited me to stay at her apartment only a few kilometers away.  I very graciously accepted, got directions, and wound my way through the village to the duplex along the river. We had a wonderful visit.  A beer in a chair along the riverbank, visited and poked at by the local duck.  A simple meal of tomato sandwiches, talked music (jazz), and also played a game of Scrabble.  Though French-speaking, she played in English, and after my strong start, she demolished me!  The next morning a simple breakfast was followed by discussion about, and examination of, her bicycle and how she could get a better fit. 

Nancy Fraser, quick with a beer by the river.

The persistent duck

Losing badly at Scrabble. I will not divulge the score.

A new friend made. After she gave me some homemade beet salad for my lunch, I headed out in a misty gray morning toward Quebec (city). 

It wasn’t long before I had to put on my raincoat to ward off the wetness, for it lasted quite a long time.  Took a short break for a patisserie in Deschambault, a nice village with a dominating church.  I met several other long-distance cyclists there, also on break. The rain took a short break, long enough for me to have lunch at the start of the Corridor du Littoral into the City, a pathway that takes one closer to the river levels through lovely rural areas directly into the old quarter.  That is until road construction (more specifically a closed road) takes you up very steep bluffs, and when closer to the city, the need to surmount the bluffs that provided the city its unique vantage point for protection in the 1600’s.  After walking up several hills and navigating the city streets (also under construction) I finally found my accommodation at Rosie’s Cottage, which is actually not a cottage but a three-story walk-up townhouse in the St. Jean Baptiste neighborhood.  

Rosie's "Cottage"

Rosie is a character, provided all kinds of great information, and the history of her ownership of this small accommodation near the old town area.  It was a wonderful respite from the rain, and reasonably affordable given the tourist-driven inflation generally.

One of several gates into the old quarter

Wandering the wet streets in search of food, and photos

Night shot near Rosie's neighborhood

But I was worried about another old friend as I wandered the damp streets of old town that evening, navigating the crowds and searching for decent dinner fare.

My sandals, quite damp not only on this day, but on this trip, were displaying significant wear and tear, with the emphasis on the latter.  I already had a strap break requiring repair in Victoria, but now another strap pulled out, and the strain on the wet leather-like material seemed risky given the time I have remaining.  It was going to be difficult to replace them anywhere but a larger city.  Many bicycle shops simply do not carry any shoe inventory.  Prior to departing Quebec, I got a referral to Mathieu Performance bike shop and decided to see what they would have.  I was greeted by Pierre and his associate, who directed me to the recommended touring shoe, as that is what he wears. A fit was made, the clip installed, and a final goodbye made as they were somewhat unceremoniously dumped by the associate into the trash.  I did not have the heart (or sole) to toss them myself.

I couldn't inter my beloved sandals, so the associate
took on the task!

These sandals, my old friend, have been on many trips, serving me well every time and everywhere.  I was really very sorry to see them go.  Time to get used to a new friend.

Time to break in the new pair (friend)1

I left the bike shop on the near north side of the city and rode around to the ferry terminal that would take me to the south shore in Levis.  The new shoes, a bit stiff and unyielding, nevertheless began their journey.  It was time to head out along the river.

The ferry departing Quebec for Levis, a view of the old quarter

The ferry is a short hop, maybe 15 minutes across the water, with typically many bicycles on board, just enough time to snap some photos of the receding skyline of old town.  And like lemmings, the bicyclists depart the ferry first in a drove, and I followed to the bike path that headed eastward.  As I did so, I noted another touring cyclist right behind me heading in the same direction.  I slowed a bit to inquire the usual questions of start and destination.  The answer lasted  4 days.

Correcting our "mistake" Mariya and I crossed through beautiful
rural valleys back toward the river.

Meet Mariya Moneva, a 44-year young producer/performance manager for the arts from Bulgaria but living in Montreal, on a short weeklong trek downstream on the same route and destination as I was planning.  We started chatting the typical introductory questions of profession, family, bicycling, etc., so engrossed in the conversation and assuming the other knew which path to take, that we both missed the turn and headed due south instead of east along the river – for about 18 miles!  Time to plot a new course.

Looks like I am struggling to keep up. She tested me
and kept me going!  We were equals physically.

Sunsets were our time to reflect, here along the St. Lawrence at
SEBKA, an environmentally focused campground.  The skeeters
were horrible.

Here's why: one usually meets a lot of travelers while on tour, but most of the interactions are short lived, maybe a few days at the most, with the singular objective of going one’s own way.  It’s only natural.  You make a plan and work the plan.  But this was distinctly different.  Mariya, as it turns out, was hoping for company on this trip but could not find anyone to accompany her, and decided to go it alone to get away from her busy schedule.  On the other hand, I had been traveling solo for 86 days and was quite used to going it alone.  The walk in the old City the evening before was nice, with many pictures taken, but being in a magical place like the old walled city of Quebec is best a shared experience.  I could not do so, the food I found was not that good, the pub too loud and not the intimate setting I had hoped for, and I was in a bit of a sour mood thereafter.  Perhaps, having a shared ride with a stranger was OK for a few miles.

Patisserie.  Boulangerie.  No matter!  She guards
her croissant well!

I could recite all that we discussed but that would be boring.  Suffice it to say that we hit it off as a pair of travelers unusually well.  We rode at a brisk pace together.  We were open to discussing alternative routes and taking them. We were OK with our mistake, and those more minor ones that followed.  We shared our food.  We both enjoyed ice cream and pastries.  We both enjoyed camping, and since she traveled extensively for her job, she actually preferred camping to motels. We walked the beachfront.  We appreciated a shower and sunsets, and engaging with other campers. We talked a lot in front of an evening campfire that she liked to make.  We even agreed upon what we should buy at the grocery store to share. 

The sunsets were amazing, this at a campground in Montmagny

Mariya is the kind of riding partner one could only hope for.  Though she could easily whip me up the hills, and set a crisp pace that would challenge most, I was up for the challenge and rose to it, though there were more than a few hills that I had to walk, and a lesser amount she had to.  Even after a grueling stretch of ridiculously steep grades on gravel that resulted in a long lunch stop, including a nap on the picnic bench, we ended the day, and our trip, in Parc Bic, short in total daily mileage but long on an amazing walk along Ha-Ha Cove in the evening.     

Contemplating the evening in Ha-Ha Baie in Parc Bic.  An amazing
spot and an amazing evening walk.

We celebrated our time together with spaghetti, smoked
salmon and avocado - and a campfire. She enjoyed
my camp chair!

Though tempted to continue one-way with me to Moncton or some other town where she could catch a bus or train home, in the end, the call of duty to take care of business at home turned her bike westward as I headed eastward after 4 wonderful days together.  We continue to follow each other’s journey, and who knows if there is not another planned journey in our future. This was a fleeting capture moment.

She’s a friend, a new friend, and I now believe our wrong turn was the right turn. 

 

I did struggle on some hills!